Page:Three old Scottish songs (1).pdf/6

 With muckle joy my heart was fill‘d,

But now alas with sorrow kill‘d;

Oh, was she but as true as fair,

‘Twould put an end to my despair;

But oh! alas this is unkind,

Which sore does terrify my mind,

‘Tis o‘er, &c.

That Jenny stole my heart away.

Did she but feel the dismal woe,

That for her sake I undergo,

She surely then would grant relief,

And put an end to all my grief;

But oh, she is as false as fair,

Which causes all my sad despiar:

She triumphs in a proud disdain,

And takes delight to see my pain.

‘Tis o'er, &c.

Hard was my hap to fall in love,

With one that does so faithless prove,

Hard was my fate to court the maid,

That has my constant heart betray’d;

A thousand times to me she swore,

She would be true for evermore,

But oh, alas, with grief I say,

She's stole my heart and run away.

'Tis o'er, &c.